


Another Christmas

by luciferinmyhead



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Christmas Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Touch Starved Deceit, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-21 02:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferinmyhead/pseuds/luciferinmyhead
Summary: It was fine.His chest was only so tight he could barely breathe. His skin was only burning with the need to be touched by someone. Anyone. The isolation and loneliness was only crushing him.He was fine.





	1. Chapter 1

Dee glanced at the small fake tree he’d put up in his room, scowling slightly at how lackluster it was. It was pitiful, in fact - barely a ruler length in height, with two homemade baubles and some old, dying tinsel he’d scavenged from the Light’s rubbish bin in the middle of the night.

Pathetic.

He took a deep breath and tried to push the image of the beautiful tree Roman had conjured from his mind, pretending it didn’t hurt that he hadn’t been invited to help decorate, just like every other year.

_ It doesn’t matter.  _ He told himself. _ I don’t need them.  _

_ They don’t need me. _

He took a shuddering breath and lay down on his bed. This year would mark Virgil’s second Christmas with the Lights. It would also mark Dee’s second year alone for the holidays since Virgil abandoned him for the others. Sure, he  _ could _ spend it with the other Darks, if he felt like being berated and belittled. But he didn’t. So he remained alone.

But it was fine. His chest was only so tight he could barely breathe. His skin was only burning with the need to be touched by someone,  _ anyone _ . The isolation and loneliness was only crushing him.

He was fine.

He stared at the ceiling for hours, ignoring the angry rumbling of his stomach as he waited impatiently for the other Sides to hurry up and go to bed already so he could get some food! They must have been having another movie night if they were still up this late - was it Saturday already? He’d thought it was Thursday...oh well. 

Eventually,  _ finally _ , they went to bed, and Dee waited twenty minutes after hearing each door close before he dared to sneak out of his room and into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful tree as he passed through the living room, and something in him twisted painfully at the stack of presents beneath the tree, knowing that none of them were for him. 

Blinking back tears, he forced himself into the kitchen, quietly making himself a slice of toast and pouring a glass of orange juice. It wasn’t much, but with the infrequency with which he ate, he couldn’t stomach much more than that at a time. He sat at the table and ate his toast quietly, the deafening midnight silence making his quiet chewing sound like it was being played through speakers. He drank his juice and stood, washing the cup and the plate before returning.

He pretended he couldn’t feel like his chest was caving in as he turned his back to the tree and crept upstairs.

  
  


Several days later, Deceit stared at his tiny, miserable little tree, and tried to imagine what it would be like to be out there in the living room with the others as they added more decorations to it, Roman having apparently decided that they didn’t have enough. 

He imagined Roman dramatically conjuring lush tinsel and shiny baubles, placing them on the tree so that everything looked magical and just right. He imagined Patton giggling as they turned on the colourful lights, squealing with delight as they flashed. He imagined Logan, hiding his amusement as he watched from the couch with a book in his hands, feigning annoyance at their shenanigans.

He imagined Virgil, sitting cross legged on the floor beside the tree, conjuring small ornaments that matched his aesthetic to hang in the spaces Roman had left for him.

And then he tried to imagine himself, joining them. Tried to imagine what their faces might look like if they smiled at him. 

He couldn’t. 

None of them had ever liked him - even Virgil had only tolerated him because he didn’t have anyone else either. Dee had never once made any of them smile, or laugh. They scowled when they saw him, making their disdain for him clear. 

But maybe...maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe he was letting his mind twist the reality of the situation. What was it that Logan had said? Cognitive distortions? Maybe that was it. 

Well...he supposed there was only one way to find out.

Swallowing down his anxiety, he made his decision, opening his door and stepping out quietly into the hallway. He could hear them better now, their laughter echoing in his ears. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was apart of that? He let himself daydream for but a moment before stepping downstairs, resisting the urge to tap his fingers against his thigh. 

He reached the bottom of the stairs - the spot where Virgil stood for videos - and cleared his throat when none of them noticed him. 

Silence fell like a blanket over the room as the Lights heads snapped towards him. He hid his nervousness behind a mischievous smile and spoke with what little confidence he could muster. 

“May I  _ not  _ join you?” 

His heart thumped madly in his chest and he waited, hopeful, as the others stared at him like he’d just told them he’d kicked a puppy. Another moment of silence passed and the hopefulness started to crumble like an old cookie, his smile becoming more and more forced. 

_ Say something... _

_ Why won’t they say anything? _

Another moment of silence, and then, not. 

“Well,” Patton started with an obviously forced smile. “We, uhh...actually-”

“No, you may  _ not  _ join us.” Roman interrupted, and Dee’s chest tightened when Patton looked relieved at being the one to have to say it. When neither Logan nor Virgil argued against the decision - a glance, and he realised they were both glaring at him with unfiltered disdain - Dee forced himself to grin.

“Well, the joke  _ isn’t  _ on you.” He said, forcing the words out of his throat. “Because I  _ did  _ want to be anywhere near you anyway.”

_ Don’t let them see how much it hurts. _ He made a show of striding into the kitchen and snatching a cookie from the tray Patton had baked yesterday.

“I  _ didn’t  _ just want a cookie.” He lied. _ Can’t let them know _ . He pressed his arms tightly against his side so that the others wouldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking, and walked past them, heading back upstairs and pretending like he couldn’t feel their eyes burning holes into his back. 

He entered his room, shutting the door just a bit (just a lot) too hard, clicking the lock shut with trembling hands.  _ I’m fine _ . He carefully put the cookie down on his desk.

_ It’s fine _ .

He sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. 

_ I’m FINE. _

His shoulders shook with sobs as his control slipped, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, drawing his knees to his chest. His throat closed over and he could barely breathe through his sobs as tears streamed down his face. He was so  _ stupid! _

Of  _ course _ they didn’t want him! He was  _ Deceit! _ He would only ruin it for them, so why should they want him around? He was such an  _ idiot  _ to try and hope that maybe he was good enough for them, and so  _ arrogant  _ to actually try! 

He curled into himself, the weight of how alone he really was crushing him worse than ever before. Why did he have to be an idiot and let himself get his hopes up? He should have known they’d only be crushed. Should have known they wouldn’t want him.

_ They don’t want me. _

A loud sob escaped him and he shoved his knuckles into his mouth, biting down hard to shut himself up. He’d probably already ruined their afternoon enough as it was without bothering them with his pathetic crying.

_ I’m so pathetic!  _ He thought miserably.  _ I don’t deserve them _ . They were all so amazing, how could he have ever thought that he could be a part of that? 

Dee drew in a shuddering breath, glancing at his calendar. Three days until Christmas. He’d hide in his room, like he did last year, and let Christmas pass by without him. Another Christmas where nobody would be bothered with his presence. 

Another Christmas alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it Christmas? No. Am I gonna post this anyway? Yes.  
> Also, I was gonna edit this before posting it, but then I couldn't be bothered, so...enjoy!

Dee crept downstairs silently on Christmas Eve, unable to stop himself. He’d spent the last two days agonising over this moment, and found that, despite everything, he wanted to do something for the other Sides this Christmas.

The problem: They would hate anything he tried to give them.

The solution: Don’t let them know it was from him.

Dee knew they would never accept gifts from him, but he wanted so badly to give them something, and had spent the past two days thinking up and conjuring four gifts - one for each of them.

He approached the tree, ignoring the pang in his chest, and sat down cross legged in front of the pile of presents, all in various different wrapping papers. 

First, he put Patton’s present under. It was a small box, wrapped in blue paper with little white hearts, and a silver bow. To: Patton From: Santa, the tag read.

Next, Roman’s. His present was larger, and had been more awkward to wrap. The paper was red, with large gold crowns, topped with a white bow. To: Roman From: Santa.

He placed Logan’s down next. The rectangular gift was wrapped neatly with striped blue paper that matched his tie. The bow was dark blue. To: Logan From: Saint Nicholas. 

He held Virgil’s in his hands for a long moment before placing it down in the pile. The box was small enough that it fit in his palm, and it was wrapped in black paper with purple storm clouds, and a black bow. To: Virgil From: Santa.

Dee exhaled slowly, and swallowed the lump in his throat. He checked the clock on the wall - 2:08am. He really should be going to bed. Not that’d get much sleep tonight regardless. 

It took another twenty minutes of sitting by the tree before he could force himself to his feet, trudging back up the stairs and locking himself in his room. He glared tiredly at his little tree, debating whether or not to conjure some fake presents to put under it.

_ God, I’m pathetic. _ He chastised, leaving the tree and sitting down on his bed. 

_ God, I hope they like them… _

He stared at the ceiling for hours before he fell into a light sleep, and when he woke he was even more tired than before. He glanced at his clock. 6:58am. It was Christmas day.

He rolled over in his bed, staring at the wall. It didn’t matter that it was Christmas. It was just another day he spent alone in his room, after all. He tried to tell himself it was fine as a door was thrown open, and Patton ran down the hall screaming “IT’S CHRISTMAS!”

Really. He was fine.

He was fine as Roman followed him, also shrieking in his excitement, bounding down the stairs.

He was fine as Logan and Virgil both blearily exited their rooms and and trudged downstairs quietly.

He was  _ fine _ .

He couldn’t resist sneaking out into the hall and hiding at the top of the stairs to watch them open their presents.

He felt an awful lot like a stalker as he hid, watching them silently as they opened their presents. They all looked so happy as they gave each other their gifts, laughing and hugging each other. Their happiness was infectious, however, and he soon found himself smiling along with them. 

At least, until they found the presents he had left for them.

Roman was the first to pull his out, and his heart stopped. Anxiety clawed its way through him and he held his breath as he glanced at the tag, stopped, and did a double take.

“Guys! I didn’t realise we were doing secret Santa this year!” He exclaimed. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

The others stared at him for a moment, like he’d gone insane. They probably thought he had.

“Roman.” Logan said. “We... _ aren’t _ doing secret Santa this year…”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Roman asked, shoving the present into his hands. “Look! ‘To Roman, from Santa’” 

Logan frowned, reading the tag, and Dee’s heart hammered so hard in his chest he thought it might jump out. 

“I...do not understand.” Logan said eventually. “It was of my understanding that we were not doing secret Santa again this year.” He looked to Patton and Virgil for help, but they both seemed equally as confused. 

“We...we aren’t.” Virgil said. “Let me look at that for a sec?” He took the present from Logan’s hands, studying the tag. 

Dee’s heart stopped.

Virgil knew his handwriting. 

Dee held his breath as Virgil slowly glanced down at the other gifts. His chest tightened painfully as he began to sift through the stack of presents, taking out Dee’s gifts one by one, piling them in his arms. His bottom lip wobbled as Virgil carried them to the kitchen. 

He pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle the sob as Virgil threw them in the bin.

Tears streamed down his face as he watched Virgil return to the others, each of their faces set in some form of shock or confusion. Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Virgil just shook his head. 

“Don’t ask.” He said. Dee waited for one of them to ask.

They didn’t.

Dee sat there, crying silently as they opened the rest of their presents, acting like nothing had happened - like Virgil hadn’t just thrown away the gifts that Dee had worked so hard on. His eyes were red and puffy by the time the four decided it was time for breakfast, and sat down at the kitchen table while Patton made pancakes. Dee’s stomach grumbled as the smell wafted up to him, and he carefully got to his feet, creeping back to his room. 

He locked his door and curled up under his blankets, sobbing pathetically. They hated him, hated his gifts so much they didn’t even open them. Hated them so much they let Virgil throw them in the bin. They must have known - must have realised why Virgil had tossed them like they were garbage. He was the only other side that lived here, after all. It could only have been him.

God, he was such an  _ idiot  _ to have ever dared to hope this would work.

He spent the rest of Christmas morning crying pitifully, half expecting Virgil to barge into his room and demand to know why he’d had the audacity to intrude on their celebrations.

He never did, though.

_ Of course he wouldn’t _ , Dee thought miserably.  _ Why ruin his own day even further by having to deal with me? _

He scratched idly at his arm, his skin tingling with a need he couldn’t satisfy. He longed for something, anything. A hug, a touch - Hell, he’d even take being hit, he was that desperate for contact. 

_ I’m so pathetic… _

Eventually, his own exhaustion pulled him under, and he fell asleep again, not waking until early afternoon. When he did, he sighed shakily, listening out for the others. He could hear their voices downstairs.  _ Better stay up here, then. _

He curled up and pulled out his phone, opening up Tumblr and scrolling through the Sanders Sides tag. The tag had blown up overnight, and was filled with beautifully drawn Christmas themed art.

He couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t featured in most of it…

_ Whatever, it’s not like I care _ , he tried to convince himself. The ache in his chest made it difficult.

He put down his phone. 

The rest of the day was filled with nothing but raw, painful silence for Dee, sitting around in his room and pretending to himself that he wasn’t as despised as he knew himself to be. He wasn’t very successful, and every time his mind replayed the image of Virgil throwing away the presents he’d made them his heart twisted painfully in his chest. 

But, other than that, he was fine.

Really. 

He was.

The clock ticked, and before he knew it, midnight had struck, and the Lights were only just going to bed. He listened to their indistinct chatter as they meandered through the hall, going about their nightly routines. It was almost 1am by the time the noise died down, and Dee could assume they were asleep. 

He waited another hour, just to be certain, before he dared to venture out of his room, and down to the ground floor. His throat constricted as he passed the living room, littered with wrapping paper, and slowly made his way to the bin, holding his breath as he opened the lid.

His presents were gone.

Dee felt tears prick at his eyes. They were gone already. He’d hoped to take them back - the others so  _ clearly  _ didn’t want his gifts - but they were gone. Poofed out of existence, likely, as though their mere presence was a stain on the Light’s household. 

A sob wracked him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth  _ again _ , cursing his pathetic heart for the way it twisted painfully, cursing the tightness in his throat that made it hard to breathe. Cursed his pitiful, pathetic self for wanting something he could never, ever have. 

He drew in a shuddering breath, and made his way back upstairs, not bothering to eat.

He changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed, ignoring the soft sobs that wracked his shoulders. He drew the covers around him, shivering a little. He couldn’t help but look at his pathetic little tree. It somehow looked even sadder than it did before, and the top of it was bent at a slight angle. 

The hours passed and he continued to stare at it, completely unable to sleep as his thoughts raced through his mind. He could barely breathe as he thought about how much Virgil must hate him to have thrown away his gifts without even opening them. How much Patton, Logan and Roman must despise him to have destroyed them completely, not even allowing him to take them back. 

He stared at his stupid, tiny tree through tear-filled eyes, and wished he was good enough for them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, would you look at that, I'm not dead!


End file.
